


The Hand That Binds

by ficklefic (Kendarrr)



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Canon Related, F/F, Holding Hands, Hopeful Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 19:58:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20512643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendarrr/pseuds/ficklefic
Summary: In Aball, Velvet faced her past. And with Eleanor’s guiding hand, her future.





	The Hand That Binds

The burnt orange leaves on the trees, the thick carpet of it upon the forest floor, they were all too familiar to Velvet’s senses, dulled as they were. The cold air thick with the smell of fungi and decomposition. Velvet charged ahead, cold mist forming in front of her face. Behind her, her companions followed as well as they could. Velvet slowed, reminding herself that Laphicet's legs were shorter, meant that he needed to run twice as fast to keep up with them.

The clearing where she first saw Niko again, after three years of darkness of being consumed by nothing but her bitterness, was as symbolic as they came. Velvet fought against the daemons of nostalgia that threatened to claw its way through her brain. When the fortifications of Aball came into view, Velvet slowed down even further. Unsure of what she would see, she hesitated.

“Velvet...” Phi came up beside her, a reassuring presence.

“I’m fine. I just need to...” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t know what she _needed_ to do. Could she just push through the gate amidst the memories that added to the coppery taste that was constant in her mouth? Velvet clenched her fist and from the corner of her eye, saw the worried expression on Eleanor’s face.

“Don’t look at me like _that_,” Velvet snapped, turning to face the exorcist, her bandaged hand held out before her. What she felt for Eleanor now was not one she ever conceived she would feel, but it did not mean that she would let the exorcist think of her as some weak thing.“The last thing I need from you is your pity.” She looked away, towards the village. “I’m _fine. _Let’s go.”

They followed her, which was reassuring. Knowing that someone had her back was a luxury she was once afraid to get used to, but no longer. She _needed _them, she admitted that now. Needed them for the grand story of her revenge. So long as all their goals remain the same, why should it matter what path they take? May it be that the path be forged by a daemon.

Velvet pushed the gate and allowed herself to breathe. Everything remained the same. The houses, the same scent of woodsmoke, the faint hint of decay. But more importantly, there was noise. Life brimmed to the edges of the tiny secluded village of Velvet’s youth. She took small, tentative steps. She imagined herself three years ago. familiar faces all greeted her, the same ones she slayed that fateful, ruinous night. Inside her chest, her heart ached.

With weak hands and an even weaker heart, Velvet faced the villagers with whom she once shared a life. But now, no longer.

***

When they came to the decision to stay in Aball, Eleanor took it upon herself to maintain a watchful eye on Velvet. It was one thing to be driven by revenge, but to return to the start of it all, to face the ghosts of her past... It was sure to drive the daemon to extremes. When Velvet cut herself to see if she can be torn from the illusions, Eleanor tensed in fear. The daemon hardly batted an eyelash though blood dripped from her still-human, untransformed hand. Good thing Laphicet—Phi—was there to heal her immediately.

But for a moment, Eleanor allowed herself to relax. Strange as it was, seeing Velvet smile while she cooked in the kitchen of her home filled Eleanor with a warmth she didn’t believe she felt for Velvet. Daemon or therion, it hardly mattered in that moment, since Eleanor saw the girl Velvet once was. Smiling, happy. Skilled in the kitchen. For her, Eleanor’s heart lurched. Not out of pity—she knew full well that pity was the last thing Velvet wanted from her. It was a complexity of joy felt from seeing her pre-tragedy, and sadness that Eleanor did not have the opportunity to know_this_ side of Velvet.

For a quick lapse of a moment, Eleanor envied Niko.

“I’ll clean up,” Eleanor touched the inside of Velvet’s arm, near her elbow. The black-haired woman did not jump; only looked at her. Hair clung to her sweaty brow. “You should rest. Spend time with your brother.”

The soft expression that Velvet had on her face weakened Eleanor. It was the first time she saw the fierce light in her eye replaced by a look she wanted to be directed at her. It was this thought that made Eleanor struggle to fight a blush that threatened her cheeks. “Thank you.” Velvet stepped away from the sink laden with their used dishes and disappeared into the sleeping boy’s room. Eleanor heard shuffling, of Velvet arranging the pillows around her brother’s head. There was the sound of her low voice, as if telling him a bedtime story.

Eleanor turned towards the dining table where Magilou had been, not ten seconds before. Only to find her gone. She rolled her eyes; when it came to chores, she supposed it was too much to ask the help of the witch. Rolling up her sleeves so they came up to her biceps, Eleanor removed her jacket and got to work on scrubbing the dishes clean.

Once done, Eleanor wiped her hands with a cloth and peeked into the bedroom. On the floor sat Velvet, her un-bandaged hand holding the hand of Laphicet. She was asleep, her head on the edge of the bed. Eleanor admired the peaceful face of the sleeping girl for a moment before she draped a blanket over her shoulders.

It wasn’t much, this moment of peace and tranquility, but at this rate, every second where they can be still was worth it.

***

Once they secured Orthie and Russ, they returned to Velvet’s house, silent and wary. After they faced the illusion Melchior cooked up for Velvet, the stillness of the village grew suffocating. Eleanor watched Velvet even more, and she could tell that staying one minute longer in this village of longing would lead to further pain.

As if Velvet lacked in that regard.

The party scoured the locale for anything useful, anything Artorius possibly left behind. For the most part, Eleanor stayed close to Velvet, orbiting without being too obvious in her concerns. Velvet stood at the doorway of Laphicet’s room. Dust motes drifted in the air. The bed, made and empty. The shelves filled with books and knickknacks. Velvet stared blankly at the bed.

All was quiet until with a shout of anguish, her voice breaking, Velvet punched the sturdy wood of the doorway into her brother’s bedroom. The wood splintered and cracked. Her bandaged fist clouded red with blood. It blossomed, dark and vibrant, through the wrappings.

“Velvet!’ Eleanor hurried to her side and clasped the clenched fist. It was a testament to how deep in thought the therion was that she did not notice that Eleanor was there. The look on her face was that of surprise.

“Eleanor, what are you—”

Without Laphicet nearby, there was no one to heal Velvet’s injury. Eleanor guided her to sit at the dining table where they enjoyed the meal Velvet cooked not even twelve hours ago. “You’re bleeding,” Eleanor pointed out.

“Obviously,” Velvet’s amber eyes glowed in the candlelight. “I’m fine, it doesn’t hurt.” Eleanor ignored her while she rummaged through the cabinets in search for an injury kit. “There’s some bandages and cleaning solution under the sink.” Velvet said with a roll of her eyes. “Why do I even bother talking to you if you won’t listen to me?”

Eleanor found them and returned to Velvet’s side. “I know it doesn’t hurt. I know you have a high tolerance for pain. But who knows what can happen if your wound gets infected?” She took Velvet by the hand and peeled the bandage back. Velvet’s fist looked nothing out of the ordinary that it startled Eleanor. The pale skin, the calloused hand. The skin split at the knuckles, blood streaking between the gaps of her fingers.

“You’re surprised, aren’t you? That my hand looks normal?” Velvet looked at Eleanor, and when their gaze met, Velvet’s hand twitched in Eleanor’s.

“A little,” the exorcist admitted. She traced the line that crossed Velvet’s palm. Took a damp cloth to wipe away the blood. “You know, there’s more to life than pain. It’s not the only way to remind yourself. It’s not the only thing that can make you feel.” Eleanor dabbed the cleaning agent against Velvet’s wounds and carefully redressed her hand. “There are other things, too.”

“It’s the best way,” Velvet insisted. “Pain, anger... It’s what motivates me.”

Eleanor finished wrapping Velvet’s hand but did not release it. She cradled the back of it against her left hand and imagined its daemon form. Blood-red, strong, can take the life of anything—be it human or daemon—in a flash. But in its bandaged human form, it was the delicate hand of a girl.

***

As much as Velvet wanted to wrench her hand away from the lap of the exorcist, she restrained herself. The room, now redolent with the smell of yarrow and calendula, was still, with only the two of them and the sound of their breathing that gave an indication of life in the dead village of Aball.

“Who was she to you? The girl...”

“You mean Niko?” Velvet’s gaze landed on Eleanor. “She was a friend of mine... back then.” The smile of a broken-hearted girl fractured Velvet’s normally-blank features. “One of the last things she said to me, I still remember. She said that if I was a boy, she would fall in love with me. And I said, to keep the peace, that if I were a boy, I would fall in love with her.” Velvet shook her head and stared at the pool of moonlight that spilled across the surface of the table. “But I didn’t have to be anything other than who I already am to do that.”

Where Velvet sees only darkness, Eleanor is the light.

“I agree,” Eleanor said in a way that Velvet wanted to close her fist to protect herself from this potential.

“With what?”

Eleanor’s thumb in her palm. Velvet’s fingers curled around it as if a treasure she meant to keep. “You don’t have to be anything other than yourself.”

“Even though I’m something you hate? A daemon?”

The rose-haired girl met Velvet’s gaze and it’s a little bit like staying afloat, above the crash of waves, only to catch a glimpse of the moonlight. “I don’t know if I believe that everything happens for a reason. But I do know that you are the Velvet that you are because of the things that happened to you. By that reasoning,” Eleanor held up her unclasped hand, finger pointed towards the ceiling. Velvet could not repress a smile. “I mean, that is to say... This Velvet that is here,” Eleanor’s voice softened. “Is the one that is here with me.”

“Eleanor?”

“Yes, Velvet?”

“I’m glad you’re not an illusion.”

Velvet clasped Eleanor’s entire hand and not just her thumb. Felt her warmth through the bandages, the smoothness of her palm through her fingertips.

What possessed Velvet, she herself did not know. Or perhaps, it was in her all along, this possibility.

They kissed, and the dust settled.

They kissed, and their hands closed around each other’s.

They kissed, and for a moment, light.

***

They met their companions at the clearing a few minutes later. The sunlight filtered through the dense canopy of foliage, leaving mottled light. Eleanor’s hand in Velvet’s. As they neared Magilou, Rokurou, Eizen, and Laphicet, their hold on each other loosened until only their pinky fingers remained intertwined.

And then came the severance.

Velvet stepped forward and discussed the next course of action, to bring the two pups back to Titania and search for the next. The rest of the group nodded their assent and made their way out of the gates of Aball. She lingered, looking back at the village as if she was just leaving a room, as if she would return. She then looked forward to Eleanor, who waited.

She fell into step beside the exorcist. This time, with nothing but reality before her.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this right after the Aball scenes. BOY, I thought that part of the game was already bad, gaslighting-wise. Imagine my face when I kept playing. 
> 
> I might be a bit predictable about the fascination with Velvet's hands, but bet that it would play a bigger part in my next ToB fic that I'm already thinking about.


End file.
